Thirty years of P4C: #5 Jan – a teacher’s radical transformation, and the profound unlocking of a child

“Pedagogically, P4C changed how I taught, informed why I taught, and improved every aspect of teaching.“

There are few training courses that change your life; few “continuing professional development” experiences that fundamentally alter the way you think or see life; few that set a course at a tangential path into adventure. It may sound like exaggeration or hyperbole, but my initial P4C training, part of a whole school initiative, did all of those things, and 20 years on, that training ripples through my retirement in all sorts of ways, not least of which is a deep connection with many of the people I have met on that journey.

So what was it that caused the pivot, the disrupt? Training in P4C brought me to a recognition of how the perceived role of teacher as instructor or deliverer/imparter of knowledge didn’t sit well (or at all) with me. Instead, P4C gave me a framework in which I could hold open an inquisitive and curious space for my pupils, I could cast aside the role of “having to be expert”, and continue to be both learner and co-inquirer.

“Elements of P4C percolated into every lesson, initially deliberately and later instinctively.”

Pedagogically, P4C changed how I taught, informed why I taught, and improved every aspect of teaching. Elements of P4C percolated into every lesson, initially deliberately and later instinctively.  I heard sentence structures that we had proactively established in P4C enquiries spill over into the playground – “I don’t’ agree with you because …” “I think the same as Sam and would like to add ….”  Whilst I had the privilege of holding enquiries across all KS2 classes, I saw the biggest change in my Year 6 classes, where pupils consistently built the sort of respectful, inclusive and supportive communities I would have loved to be a part of at the age of 11. Even when the children disliked each other, they were able to maintain a community connection, even a kind of family connection.

There were a number of stand out moments from the classroom, and of those – funny, provocative, reflective, challenging – the most moving happened in a way that empowered each of us in that enquiry both personally and communally.  We watched, together, the unlocking of a child – something that changed us as a class, and which I will remember for ever.

That year, I had an adopted child in my class, who, prior to the adoption, had travelled through a number of foster care placements. The child was difficult in the extreme, suffering from attachment issues and physically and verbally challenging.  P4C circles which involved them had to be handled carefully, as just being able to lock eyes with one another across the circle could kick off an incident.

“We watched, together, the unlocking of a child – something that changed us as a class, and which I will remember for ever.“

On the day in question, as part of our work on the Second World War, we were in a P4C session.  The stimulus was Erika’s Story by Ruth Vander Zee, a picture book which told the (true) story of Erika who was, as a newborn, thrown from the window of the cattle truck in which her parents were transported to Dachau concentration camp. Erika survived the fall, and was found and brought up by a German couple.  She did not know her given name, her age or her nationality. But she had life. As a mother, I found the story deeply disturbing, and the picture of this tiny bundle flying from the hands of unseen parents, and imagining their grief, could and did reduce me to tears. I had learned to read through my tears and was not ashamed to let them show.

Reading that page, at that moment, this child stood up and my heart plummeted – “Not now!” I thought.  I watched them thread their way round the edge of the circle to my desk from which they collected my box of tissues, which they passed, wordlessly, to me. They returned to their seat as, amazed, I blew my nose and thanked them for their thoughtfulness. Into the somewhat stunned silence, the child said, quietly and matter-of-factly, “My mum threw me away”. The question ultimately chosen for that enquiry was “Who loved Erika most?” The enquiry was powerful and supportive of that child, and none of us was ever quite the same again.

P4C epitomises for me a sense of hope, of belonging, of community, of love. I am more human because of it.